What Olli Doesn't Know
by re-harakhti
Summary: Christian POV recalling his time spent in prison, contains mentions of Ollian: Olli/Christian and OMC/Christian. Features slash, violence, non-con and general angst. Based on characters from German daytime tv show Verbotene Liebe.


**Word count: **1900

**Rating: **NC-17

**Warnings: **Angst, non-con, violence

**Pairings: **Olli/Christian, OMC/Christian

**Author notes:** This is my first fic in this fandom. I have no beta – so constructive criticism and opinions on this alternative view of their relationship will be welcomed.

**What Olli doesn't know**

Christian is open and free with Olli, he's been more giving of himself in this relationship than any other before, yet deep down he has his dark and shameful secrets. He knows that Olli is inwardly proud of being the first man to teach him how to love another male, how to kiss, touch and hold. He is aware that even when out in local clubs that they have frequented many times before and are undoubtedly recognised by their fellow thrill seekers, Olli still puts a strong, guarding arm around his waist and gives off an unmistakable aura of ownership and protection.

It vaguely amuses Christian, seeing how he spends most of his time getting into the best shape possible to pummel most men into pieces of bloody, torn flesh. But he still allows Olli to do this as it puts a shield between him and the outside world, as well as letting Olli keep his false illusion of being the first and only man that has been intimate with him.

-

He has never talked about his time in prison.

He's not even sure if Olli knows about it.

That's how he likes it.

If anyone was to ask him about those three years he spent trapped by solid stone and false light, he would shake his head and mumble an inarticulate answer about it being less than pleasant. But no one has ever asked, not even Gregor. It's in the past so that is where it stays.

-

He was nineteen when he took the rap for his father's misdeeds: nineteen years old, in prison with a pretty, fresh face and an untouched arse. Back then he had only been training as a boxer on a part time basis; it wasn't the driving force which dominates half of his life today. In reflection, he's not even sure if in his current state he would be able to hold his own against the monsters that lurked in the jail cells, corridors, bathrooms and canteens of those horrifying years.

There's only so much muscle, speed and strategy can do against pure numbers and determination of men _starving_ to get laid and have the status of _owning_ the newest and tightest arse.

He was claimed by a gang leader who had to sacrifice two underlings to fight off other 'lonely men for his pleasant company'. That first night he was taken roughly multiple times with his face scrunched up downwards on a sweaty blanket and his hands clenching onto the edge of the bed.

His_ benefactor_ didn't let anyone else touch him but they still watched; Christian felt as if he was in some type of ancient ritual where witnesses would watch a young couple copulate to ensure that they where still both virgins on their wedding night.

Like any good bride, Christian bled.

The gang leader ordered him to call him Romeo, Christian has no idea if that was his real name, nickname or a false one given so he couldn't tattle on him. To be fair though he could he have told? The prison guards were more often than not leering over him themselves; he had the unfortunate experience of being the only one in the showers when a nameless, faceless guard watched him. He sped up his wash but was ordered in no uncertain terms to keep cleaning himself at his usual pace. It was more degrading, Christian believes, to be made to jack-off in front of guard who kept stroking his baton (_sick freak)_ and to show the evidence of his ill-conceived pleasure than the motions he went through with Romeo.

Stumbling back from the showers that day and lowering himself to his bunk in Romeo's cell, even his regular rapist could tell that he was looking out of colour and more peaky than usual.

'Why sweet Juliet' Came the drawling tones, 'What have upset you so?'

Romeo had decided to give him a girly name to help his self-esteem hit rock-bottom and took to talking to him in his best approximation of Ye Olde Language, oh well, he could have had worst kinks.

-

Christian has seen the remains of boys taken in by those who favour knives and blood rather than Romeo with his tactics of humiliation and exhibitionism.

He knows now that he was _lucky._

-

Christian simply shook his head, before shaking with fear as the Leering Guard walking past their cell slowly, dragging his baton along the walls. He stopped, entered the room, then knocked on the door and just stood there. He looked around and smirked as his eyes alighted on Christian again.

'As you were'

With that he left them and restarted his steady, loping pace along the corridor.

Whatever Christian thought of Romeo; cruel, sadistic, _rapist_, he never believed him to be thick. Which was proven when he correctly deduced exactly what had occurred in 2 seconds flat, snarling he pinned Christian to the bed and had his way with him, but there was a difference.

He hadn't bothered to turn Christian over, so he could see Romeo face-to-face, close up as he never had before. Romeo spewed words of control, dominance and power as he tore his clothes off. But before he took him hard, fast _and painful_, he slowed down and touched him; his hands didn't go straight to his hips to lift them up, up and enter his…no. They went over his chest, arms, thighs; everywhere he had previously ignored was now being eaten up by a greedy stare and possessive hands. Then came the big surprise, his lips. Not on his own lips of course, but Christian was slobbered, drooled on, licked, kissed, bitten and had teeth scraped across his neck, chest, nipples and … _God, yes_…down there too.

Then he was taken, with Romeo's fingers preparing the way with more than just a quick wiggle. This was planned out, a methodical seduction of hitting his vital, sensitive points, including…_yes, yes, there, just there! _There was no love, no emotion as Romeo finally entered him; slow, steady and so unbelievably hard. Christian remembers there was a searching look on his face, of being watched as he panted, sobbed and gasped his way to his first ever, God-honest, true orgasm since he had arrived in prison six months ago.

Just before the climax hit Christian, Romeo pulled out and used his fingers to keep up a constant pressure on his prostate while applying his mouth to Christian's dick. _God, God, oh God_…he hadn't felt anything like this ever, no one had ever gone down on him and now a freaking gang leader had done it to him. After he came, Romeo had arisen over him and transferred the semen caught in his mouth to Christian's in the most slimy, sticky kiss he has ever experienced. He then knelt over Christian's exhausted frame and jerked off onto his face, he could barely move or find a voice to complain so he simply allowed his eyes close, they were the only barrier he had left it seemed.

Then an iron grip lifted his torso up so he was nose-to-nose with his _lover. _

'Mine.' A short but defining statement that fundamentally changed the way that Christian would always see his future relationships, but there was little time to contemplate that back then. Romeo licked his seed off of his face and fed it to him by tongue.

It was a refreshing sleep that followed shortly after and for once he wasn't awakened by Romeo forcing his way up his back passage or one of the gang's many minions taunting and sniggering at him.

Christian can only faintly recall leaving the cell to find the gang, with Romeo presiding over the event, in a circle with the guard being systematically raped by all of the members known to carry sexually transmitted diseases. He had been threatened with such treatment when he was still wilful and refusing to go to Romeo's cell easily, but he never thought it could be so brutal. Leering Guard was taken by three men at a time in all three orifices. With all the other guards strangely absent and no apparent efforts made to save him, Christian had a chilling feeling that Romeo's influence had probably bought off the majority of the guards and that the CCTV footage of this event would never be found.

Romeo turned and seeing him, drew with to his side with first a look and then with a strong, guarding arm around his waist, giving off an unmistakable aura of ownership and protection.

-

Christian doesn't care to think of the next two and a half years spent in jail, but he knows that if anyone on the outside ever knew how many times he willingly went to the bed of that drug dealer, rapist and murderer, the shame would possible burn him up from the inside. He would drop to his knees, often without being asked to give pleasure to his captor_ (protector?)_, this would happen not only to calm down a furious Romeo but sometimes, well…just because.

Christian knows there was no emotion in that relationship.

He **knows** this.

All he could carry away with him when he was declared a free man was the deep set knowledge that the soft skin and curves of a woman would seem as alien to him as the surface of Mars and that without someone watching over him, _keeping him_, he wasn't sure what exactly he would be able to do at all in his life.

So he trained, to be harder, faster, better with his body so he would be able to look after himself. He found Gregor, who kept an eye out for him and a home; where he could sit in the corner of his room with the lights turned off and the curtains drawn and pretend that he wasn't pretending that the sound of his own harsh breathing was the sound of a bigger, stronger man sharing a darkened room with him.

If the sound of men shouting in the gym or the boxing club gave him the vague familiarity of the strange comradeship between prisoners as they stood in a circle cheering on a fight (_to the death_) he tried to convince himself that he didn't like it or miss it.

He felt lost and adrift until Olli came along. Olli, who challenged his thinking that gay men were not violent, opportunistic thieves, Olli was strong and caring. Olli who was fresh, clean and positively innocent compared to him. Olli, who would never, could never know about what he had done.

The courtship went, in retrospect near perfectly; he had acted shy and awkward – half way between teasing and naïve of his actions. Whilst Olli ploughed onwards and tore down his false, already fragile barriers and made himself the centre of Christian's life.

-

Christian still pretends sometimes that he doesn't like overt public displays of attention and that Olli touching him just there on his waist is only barely tolerated in the middle of a crowded room. But he knows that Olli knows that it is all a game and that their affection, their _love_ is true.

He just hopes, he prays that Olli will never ever leave him. He needs Olli with his clear dark eyes to keep him in line, to define him, to own him, to protect him.

But by God, he wishes Olli will never know why.


End file.
